


thrills don't come for free

by suspendrs



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alcohol, Clubbing, M/M, Strangers to Lovers, that's actually literally it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-01
Updated: 2018-02-01
Packaged: 2019-03-12 08:13:10
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,318
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13543320
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/suspendrs/pseuds/suspendrs
Summary: The night before comes back to him slowly, puking in the toilet at the club and then falling asleep in his car in the parking lot. He closes his eyes again for a moment until he realizes that the car is on and moving, and someone is driving it that isn’t him.He picks his head up and peers between the seats, catching sight of a perfect stranger sitting behind the wheel, singing quietly and driving Louis’s car.Or, Louis has a bit too much to drink and falls asleep in the backseat of Harry's car.





	thrills don't come for free

**Author's Note:**

> i found this fic in my google docs from like a year and a half ago and i can't remember why i wrote it or why i never posted it but i cleaned it up a little and decided it's been a while since i've posted anything and it's gonna be another while until i post something so,,, here's a silly fun lil thing!!

Louis should really stop doing this. See, he’s not as young as he used to be, and his body is having a hard time keeping up with him lately. The alcohol, the late nights, the hangovers, he just can’t really deal with it all like he could a few years ago, and the best idea would probably be to stop, or at least to slow down.

 _Tomorrow_ , he tells himself, as yet another shot burns down his throat. His future, hungover self already hates his present self, but, oh well. Partying is fun, especially when he has boys and girls alike buying him drink after drink.

This was all Niall’s idea, anyway. He doesn’t even know where Niall is right now; Louis bellied up to the bar two minutes in the door and Niall’s been lost in the crowd on the dancefloor ever since. He’s probably already found someone to go home with, because that would be just like him. Louis won’t find anyone, because drinking makes him sloppy and intimidating, and he has a hard time finding a boy that isn’t afraid of him by the end of the night.

He knocks back another shot and turns around on his stool, eyes sweeping over the crowd. Everybody’s moving, dancing and jumping and shouting, and Louis grins. How could anyone dislike this? Everyone is having the time of their life, Louis wants to do this every night.

He checks his phone for the time, frowning when he sees it’s only about one in the morning. He really is getting old, he thinks, already feeling like it’s time to either stumble to the bathroom and make some more room in his stomach or stumble outside for a cab.

He spots Niall on the dance floor, pressed up close behind some girl Louis’s never seen before. She’s pretty, long dark hair and a short pink dress. Good for Niall, Louis thinks, finding a pretty girl to dance with. 

Louis thinks for a moment about finding a pretty boy to dance with, sees one swaying alone near the edge of the dance floor with a half empty drink in his hand. Louis can’t really see his face, but he looks attractive enough, tall and long and lean with tight jeans and a loose fitting t-shirt. A few shots ago, Louis might have gone over, pressed himself back against the guy’s crotch and had himself a hell of a night. As it is, though, Louis can hardly see straight, and his giggly buzzed has turned into dizzy pissed. 

A drink of water would probably do him well, or maybe something to eat. A plate of greasy chips sounds to die for, but when he turns back around to face the bar, the bartender is nowhere to be seen, and Louis can’t be bothered to hunt him down.

He turns back again to look for the guy he was ogling, thinking maybe if he can pull himself together enough to be charming, he could get a plate of chips and maybe a shag out of him. Tall and lean is not standing by the edge of the dance floor anymore, though, and for all Louis peers into the crowd, he can’t find him.

He hops down off his stool too quickly, stumbling into the person next to him and grunting quietly. The person helps him stand and Louis waves his hand in what might be a gesture of thanks, stumbling off toward the dance floor.

The music is pounding, Louis can feel it resonating in his chest, thinks that if he had a stethoscope he might be able to hear the harmonies in his veins. He entertains himself with the thought for a moment, smiling to himself before getting back to the task at hand.

Every cute boy on the dance floor seems to be taken, which is unfortunate. Louis weasels himself through the crowd, agility a distant memory at this point, doing his best not to knock anyone over and probably failing quite well. 

He spots Niall at the same time some tall, blundering idiot elbows him in the head, sending his entire world spinning, and nearly taking Louis off his feet.

“Sorry!” the person shouts over the music, but he doesn’t stop dancing to make sure Louis is okay. Louis’s going to vomit, suddenly, his head aching where the guy’s bony elbow collided with his skull. He rushes through the rest of the crowd, getting a few angry squawks of protest from different people, and runs for the toilet near the back of the club.

He manages to make it into the stall before he’s sick, retching into the toilet bowl for a long few minutes. There’s nobody else in the small bathroom, which is good, because this is embarrassing. Louis is a grown ass man, he should be able to hold his liquor by now. 

By the time he’s done he’s decided he’s quite finished with the whole club scene, and he pushes out of the bathroom and back through the crowd. He searches half heartedly for Niall on his way out, but decides to just text him when he gets in a cab. He’s clearly in no state to drive, which means he’ll have to come back for his car tomorrow, but that’s okay.

He pats his pockets while he stands on the curb outside the club, double checking for his wallet. His head spins a little when he comes up empty handed, the alcohol dulling the anxiety that should be coursing through his veins.

“Fucking hell,” he groans, turning back to look at the door of the club. He should go back in and look for it, or at least report it missing, but instead he just blinks slowly and sets off toward the car park.

He tries to spot his car in the low light, patting at his pockets again. Fucking Niall has his keys, he’s sure of it. He does have his phone on him, though, so he pulls it out and squints at the screen, finding a text from niall.

_went home with a girl ! don’t get to pissed tommo mate talk to ya tomorrow ._

Louis rolls his eyes, putting his phone away and looking for his car again. He just wants to go to sleep, and he supposes the backseat of his car will do. He just hopes he didn’t lock the doors.

He finds his car in the last row of the lot, and, of course, the doors are locked. The passenger window is open a crack, though, god bless Niall, the idiot. 

He huffs and reaches his arm through the window, trying to get to the lock on the inside of the door. He’s almost just barely able to reach it, and with a little bit of whining and a tiny stretch more, his middle finger hooks around the lock and he pulls it up.

“Yes,” he grins, pulling his arm out of the window and opening the door. He doesn’t bother unlocking the other doors, crawling over the console and into the backseat. He finds a blanket on the floor that he doesn’t remember leaving there and curls up under it, sighing happily.

He’s a little squished up, and the blanket kinda smells like weed, but he’s fine until the cold air coming in through the window starts making his nose cold. He sits up and rolls up the window, locking the door, and then lays back down and pulls the blanket up over his head, passing out quickly.

-

He wakes up with a jolt, blinking his eyes open and seeing nothing but yellow. He thinks he might be having a stroke until he realizes there’s a blanket over his eyes, and he pulls it down. 

The night before comes back to him slowly, puking in the toilet at the club and then falling asleep in his car in the parking lot. He closes his eyes again for a moment until he realizes that the car is on and _moving_ , and someone is driving it that isn’t him. 

He picks his head up and peers between the seats, catching sight of a perfect stranger sitting behind the wheel, singing quietly and _driving_ Louis’s car.

Louis’s only available reaction is to start screaming, and the guy driving his car just about flips it over. The car thief starts screaming as well and veers to the side of the road, glancing back at Louis.

They seem to be on the highway, and when the car slows to a stop, Louis sits up quickly.

“Who the fuck are you?” he shouts, pushing the blanket off his body. His head is pounding but the adrenaline masks it, the terrified look on the other man’s face adding to the confusion on Louis’s own.

“Who the fuck are _you_?” the guy spits, gripping the wheel tightly and staring at Louis over his shoulder.

“This is my fucking car,” Louis spits back, with a sweeping gesture. 

The other guy looks bewildered, shaking his head. “This is _my_ car,” he argues.

“What the fuck,” Louis grits out, giving the guy a once over. If Louis wasn’t so scared, he might find the guy attractive. He’s tall and long and looks very strong, but lean. His hair is wild, sticking up all over the place, and his eyes are wide and green. “No, this is my car,” Louis argues back.

“Okay,” the other guy huffs, shaking his head again quickly. “Even if this was your car, why the fuck are you sleeping in the back of it?”

“I was drunk,” Louis says defensively. “And my friend took my keys and then abandoned me, and I lost my wallet, and I just wanted to sleep. So, I went and found _my car_ ,” he gives the guy a look, “and I slept in it.”

“Right,” the guy nods, looking skeptical. “But this is still my car.”

“Jesus fucking Christ,” Louis spits, rolling his eyes. “Prove it, then,” he says.

“Go look at the license plate,” the guy says, rolling his eyes right back. 

“How do I know that you’re not going to drive off as soon as I get out of the car?” Louis huffs, crossing his arms over his chest. 

“Fine, here, I’ll come with you,” the guy sighs, undoing his seatbelt and getting out of the car. Louis blinks and watches him for a moment as he rounds to the back of the car, and then pushes his door open and gets out as well.

He rounds the car, arms still crossed over his chest, and glares at the other guy before he looks down at the license plate.

Which, actually, is not his.

“Oh,” he blinks, feeling himself flush. “This isn’t my car.”

The guy bows slightly, which is infuriating, and he’s smirking when Louis looks back up. “Told you.”

“What the fuck am I going to do now?” Louis mutters, looking around. “Where are we?”

“Not too far from London,” the guy says, nudging Louis with his shoulder. “I’ll take you back to get your car.”

Louis figures he can’t argue with that, trudging to the passenger door and falling into the car. “Thanks,” he says, when the other guy gets back in as well.

“It’s okay,” he assures, glancing over at Louis. “My name’s Harry, by the way.”

“Louis,” Louis says, giving Harry a little smile. “Sorry for sleeping in your car. And for being such a twit about it.”

Harry just laughs, shaking his head. “Made my day a hell of a lot more exciting, I think,” he shrugs. “Plus, this’ll be a great story.”

Louis chuckles softly, leaning his head back against the seat and closing his eyes. His head is absolutely killing, the pressure behind his eyes almost unbearable.

“Are you hungover?” Harry asks, frowning when Louis peeks an eye open at him.

“Very,” Louis mutters.

“There’s ibuprofen in the glove box,” Harry tells him, nodding towards it. “Help yourself.”

“Thank you,” Louis gushes, reaching forward to dig through Harry’s glove box. There are dozens of photographs mixed in around the box of tissues and bottle of ibuprofen in the glove box, and Louis examines one for a moment. “So what were you up to before you found a weird man sleeping in your backseat?” he asks conversationally, swallowing the pills dry.

Harry laughs, and Louis notices he has a little dimple in his cheek. It’s kinda cute.

“Well, I actually spent the night at someone’s house that I met at the club,” he says, blushing a bit like he’s embarrassed. Louis thinks he’s adorable, suddenly. “And he dropped me back off to get my car this morning, and from there I left to drive north to this place I’ve heard of. I’m a photographer, and apparently there’s a beautiful field up north,” he explains.

“Ah,” Louis hums, glancing out the window. They pass an overhead sign and Louis’s stomach drops, making him sit up quickly. “Harry, we’re almost an hour out of London! You don’t have to drive me all the way back, god, I’ve fucked up your whole day now,” he frowns, looking over at him.

“No, don’t worry,” Harry says quickly, settling Louis. “This is way more exciting than taking pictures of bees.”

“I’m so sorry,” Louis groans, scrubbing a hand over his face. “God, I’m such an idiot.”

“Please, it’s okay,” Harry laughs softly. “It was an honest mistake.”

“You’re a fantastic human, Harry,” Louis says, reaching over to touch his arm gently. “Thank you.”

Harry just laughs at him, blushing slightly. They fall silent for a bit, some weird indie sounding song playing over the radio. Louis watches out the window for a bit, until his stomach growls loudly.

“That’s embarrassing,” he chuckles, placing a hand over his stomach. He’s quite hungry, now that he thinks about it; he hasn’t eaten since before he and Niall went to the club last night.

“You must be starving,” Harry gushes, “it’s nearly midday!”

“I’m alright, I’ll make it,” Louis assures, but Harry is already putting on his signal to get off at the next exit. 

“No, I’ll take you for food,” Harry says, ignoring Louis’s protests. “I could eat as well.”

“I don’t have any money,” Louis tells him. “Lost me wallet last night.”

“That’s okay,” Harry shrugs, smiling over at him. “I don’t often get a chance to spend money on other people.”

Louis feels himself blush, and he turns away. He’s not sure why Harry’s being so kind to him. Maybe he’s going to murder him later, or something, but right now Louis is quite appreciating the attention.

The thing is, he’s nearly 25, and he’s never even had a serious boyfriend. He’s shagged plenty of guys, had a few flings, and he’s definitely had more than a few crushes. He’s always been a sucker for cute boys who are also nice, and who may or may not be flirting with him.

They stop at a diner in some village Louis’s never been to, and it isn’t until they’re inside and seated that Louis realizes he probably looks like a right mess. He’s still in the clothes he wore to the club and he hasn’t brushed his teeth since he puked last night, and his hair is messy and greasy and he feels quite gross.

He fiddles with his fringe self consciously while he looks over the menu, but when he looks up and catches Harry looking at him, he kind of forgets his rank appearance.

“So,” Louis hums, because he hates himself, apparently, “did you have a good night last night?”

He says it suggestively enough that Harry catches on to what he means almost immediately, blushing down to his neck. He laughs quietly, playing with the straw in the glass of water the waitress brought over when they sat down.

“I mean, yeah,” he shrugs, not meeting Louis’s eye. “I never do things like that, not really my style. It was, I mean, it was okay, as far as- you know,” he blushes a little harder, and Louis laughs.

“So you won’t see him again, you think?” he asks, trying not to sound hopeful. He barely knows this guy, but he’s weirdly attracted to him.

“No, definitely not,” Harry shakes his head. “I didn’t even get his number. He wasn’t _that_ good,” he smirks cheekily.

“His loss,” Louis hums without thinking, trying to hide the way he blushes. “I mean, I guess I’m pretty lucky with the way things went, yeah? Anybody else that found my mangy arse in their backseat probably would have left me on the side of the road,” he chuckles.

“You’re not mangy,” Harry frowns. “Even if you’re hungover and a bit smelly,” he admits.

Louis laughs, waiting until Harry looks away to try and discreetly sniff himself. Smelly, Jesus, he didn’t even think of that one.

“You really shouldn’t leave your windows open, you know,” he says, placing his menu down and narrowing his eyes playfully at Harry. “You never know who you might find sleeping in your backseat.”

Harry laughs, shaking his head. “Yeah, think I’ve learned my lesson about that one,” he chuckles. 

The waitress comes over to take their order then, and they both go for a plate of waffles, Harry’s with fruit. It’s nearly noon, but Harry confesses he didn’t really eat breakfast either.

“So,” Louis hums, while they wait for the food. “Do you take everyone you find in your car out to breakfast?”

Harry giggles, actually giggles, and shakes his head. “Only the cute ones.”

Louis blushes and smiles at the table; even hungover and smelly, Harry still thinks he’s cute.

Their food comes a few minutes later and it smells absolutely amazing, even though Louis still feels a bit sick. He eats as much as he can, because it tastes just as good as it smells, but he’s only able to eat about half of the plate before his stomach starts to protest.

“I’ll pay you back when I find my wallet, swear,” he says, pushing the plate away. “Thank you, as well.”

Harry shakes his head, laying the money down on the table when they’re finished and pushing his chair back. “Don’t worry. This is my treat, take it as an apology.”

“Apology for what?” Louis frowns, following him back out to the car.

“I don’t know, I’ve caused you so much trouble,” Harry shrugs. “I should have seen you in my backseat, and you could’ve been free then and there. Instead I’ve driven you all over God’s creation, which I’m sure wasn’t your plan for today.”

“Don’t be silly,” Louis scoffs, getting into the car and waiting for Harry to get in as well. “I should have made sure this was actually my car before I fucking fell asleep in it.”

“True,” Harry grins, glancing over at him as he backs out of the parking spot, heading back for the highway. 

Louis curls up in the passenger seat, pulling his phone out of his pocket for the first time and checking for any messages. There are a few texts from Niall and a snapchat from his sister, and Louis opens the texts first.

_just realized i have your keys ! will drop them off in the mornin ._

_went by your house you aren’t home ? your car is still at the club ? where are ya_

_lou are you dead , answer me i don’t need this stress !_

Louis chuckles quietly and answers the texts, typing out a quick _i’m fine, leave the keys in my car please i’m coming for it now ! will explain later._

It’s another few minutes until they finally arrive back at the club, the parking lot all but deserted. Louis points out his car- relatively close to where Harry’s was, thank you very much- and Harry’s laughing before he even parks.

“What?” Louis cries, straightening up defensively as Harry curls over the steering wheel, squawking with laughter. “What’s so funny?”

“We-” Harry cuts off with a gasp, clutching at his stomach. “Louis, we don’t even drive the same car.”

Louis blinks and looks over at his car, realizing that, oh, yeah, it isn’t even the same make as Harry’s. It is vaguely the same size and shape, though, and the same color, so he thinks he did pretty well in the dark.

“Fuck off,” he scoffs, but there’s no bite behind it, and when he gets out of the car, Harry follows him.

“Well, Harry, thank you for the ride,” Louis says, pushing his hair out of his face. “Gonna go home and sleep for a few days, I think.”

“No problem,” Harry grins, following him right to his door and leaning against the side of his car. “Thank you for teaching me to start checking my backseat for tiny, strange men after leaving my car somewhere overnight,” he teases.

“First of all,” Louis splutters, “I am not tiny. Also-”

“Shh,” Harry cuts him off, smiling like the sun. “I know. You’re cute.”

Louis does his best not to smile, glancing through the window into his car and spotting his keys on his seat, making a mental note to thank Niall for getting them back to him.

“Right, well, have fun photographing bumble bees,” Louis hums, pulling open his door and making to get in. Harry catches his arm, though, looking a bit stricken.

“Wait, wait. I drove you an hour back here _and_ bought you breakfast, and I don’t even get your number?” he pouts.

“What kind of boy do you take me for?” Louis gasps dramatically, laying a theatrical hand over his heart. 

“Oh,” Harry says, his face falling. Louis clearly needs to teach him how sarcasm works. “Well, I mean, I just thought, like- I thought there was some mutual flirting going on?” he says, bright red and as cute as he gets, Louis’s sure.

“Oh, there definitely was,” Louis hums, leaning against his open car door. “I’m just playing hard to get.”

Harry blinks and then realization dawns on his face, another honking laugh erupting from his throat. “Yeah, because putting yourself in my backseat is really hard to get.”

Louis huffs, turning away. “Right, then, no number for you. See ya,” he says, making to get into the car again.

“No,” Harry giggles, grabbing his arm again. “Please, can I have your number? I’d like to get you in my backseat again sometime,” he says cheekily.

Louis’s jaw drops, but he grins. “Just for that line, I should say no,” he chuckles, grabbing Harry’s phone out of his hand and tapping his number in. “But, alas,” he hums, texting himself so he has Harry’s number as well. “Turns out I’d kind of like to get back in your backseat as well.”

Harry grins like Louis just agreed to marry him, pocketing his phone and glancing at Louis’s mouth. Louis stops him with a hand to his chest before he even leans in, giving him a look.

“What, you don’t kiss on the first date?” Harry teases, grinning when Louis rolls his eyes.

“First of all, we haven’t been on a date yet. You’re going to have to do better than a plate of waffles and a road trip,” he teases back. “Also, I haven’t brushed my teeth in far too long. You can kiss me next time, when I don’t look like a hobo,” he grins.

Harry laughs softly, leaning in and pecking Louis’s cheek. “If this is hobo, I can’t wait to see the cleaned up version,” he hums. 

“Oh, quite the flirt, you are,” Louis smiles, pushing him away. “Text me, yeah? I wasn’t kidding about going home and having a nap, but I’d like to plan that date,” he says.

“Definitely,” Harry grins, finally letting Louis get into his car. “I’ll text you later?”

“Perfect,” Louis winks, closing his door as Harry walks back to his own car.

He drives all the way home smiling, ready for a warm shower and a long nap. He’ll have to go back to the club later to ask after his wallet, and he should probably call Niall and tell him what’s gone on, but for now, he feels warm and fuzzy and wanted in a way he hasn’t felt in a long time. 

His phone buzzes as soon as he gets home, but he doesn’t check it until he’s inside. It’s a text from Harry, a photo, and when Louis opens it up, he can’t help but grin.

The picture is of Harry, but mostly his shoulder. There’s a small, fat bumble bee sitting on the curve of his shoulder, bright against the light gray of Harry’s jumper.

 _Guess I didn’t have to go to the bumble bees_ , the accompanying text reads, _they came to me!_

Louis is so endeared, much more than he probably should be, and he texts back a few laughing emojis before setting off up the stairs to have a shower. He leaves his phone to charge in his room, hoping that when he gets out, there’ll be another text waiting.

He doesn’t like to believe in things like soulmates, likes to think he has free will and all that, but he can’t deny that he feels very, very strongly attached to Harry already. He feels like it’s fate, that out of all the cars he could have fallen asleep in, he fell asleep in Harry’s.

There is another text waiting when Louis gets out of the shower, another photo but with no caption this time. It’s a picture of Harry, smiling with his tongue out, his eyes crossed. He looks adorable, so Louis saves the photo, setting it as Harry’s contact photo.

He falls asleep not too long after that, sleeping off the remainder of his hangover. The world will undoubtedly resume when he wakes up, but for now, Louis is happy for what feels like the first time in a while.

**Author's Note:**

> if you liked the fic, you can reblog it [here](http://suspendrs.tumblr.com/post/170384565498/thrills-dont-come-for-free-by-suspendrs-4k-the)
> 
>  [faq](http://suspendrs-fics.tumblr.com/faq)


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